<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>pushing you away. by rivainitea</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883649">pushing you away.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivainitea/pseuds/rivainitea'>rivainitea</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, lots of comfort tho dw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 15:13:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,898</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23883649</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/rivainitea/pseuds/rivainitea</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Even sleeping dogs must wake up one day.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Zevran Arainai/Male Mahariel, Zevran Arainai/Male Warden</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pushing you away.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hiii this is . terribly self indulgent! again! its all i know! please enjoy these two tired men who blame themselves for the death of their ex lovers!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"How do you feel when I say the name... Tamlen?"</p>
<p>Samir's eyes widened and he flinched with a soft gasp. He wanted to yell. he wanted to scream and argue and almost fistfight this Guardian if he could. But he vowed to not speak until absolutely necessary, for Tamlen. Useless, of course. But he blamed his words for ending Tamlen, and so there were no more.</p>
<p>"He doesn't talk." Alistair answered sharply, his tone filled with distrust, but his face frowned in worry. He knew nothing of Samir other than what he allowed himself to guess. What he knew, is that Samir arrived at Ostagar completely silent but still struggling not to speak. Now, silence was a part of Samir, almost. An unnecessary burden.</p>
<p>"That's quite alright. I believe his face tells me what I must know."</p>
<p>...</p>
<p><br/>"So... Did you kill him?" Zevran spoke after having decided that he had stared at Samir for enough time. He knew it was a rather sensitive question, but there was now an unspoken language between them. He was always interested in spending time with the Warden, but he was a talkative man, and so was Samir, but not in the literal sense. Samir spoke through his body, showing much more than words could say. </p>
<p>His shrug was hurtful, however. He did not receive a concrete answer, and somehow that made it worse. He didn't know if he had killed Tamlen or not. He wasn't given the chance to confirm anything, guilt nor relief. All he had was doubt, and he clung onto that heavily.</p>
<p>"I meant, did you intend to hurt him? Was that your plan?"</p>
<p>In a way, Zevran did not know if he had killed Rinna or not either. How could he, when all he remembers is her soft pleas for mercy, her blood on his daggers and her hair against his arms while he carried her corpse, almost proud of himself. Almost.</p>
<p>Samir shook his head, almost offended. It was a valid question, but a hurtful one nonetheless.  Yet it was more than Samir had ever "said" before. He wasn't sure he had killed Tamlen or not, but just the thought of him wanting to kill him was worse. It would mean Tamlen had died through him.</p>
<p>"Then you did not. I," he hesitated, not wanting to taste the words in his mouth, "I killed Rinna. But you, my friend, you did not kill Tamlen."</p>
<p>"... Zevran,"</p>
<p>Samir said that name, and just the first two words of this sentence sounded completely insane to the Zevran. Samir had said something, after what? 6 months of simply refusing to speak? Samir nodded, shook his head, scoffed, chuckled, but never actually said something. He refused to open his mouth to do something other than eat. When Zevran asked around why, all he got was a pitiful look from his companions, until Morrigan told him with no pitiful look but pitiful words, <em>"He mourns the death of his lover, I believe. I have never heard him speak."</em></p>
<p>Therefore, you can imagine how completely and utterly shocked Zevran was, to see Samir say his name with such ease, like it belonged there, just around the edge of his lips. His voice was low and raspy in a way that was almost... Uncommon, for an elf. He couldnt be sure, but he thought he heard a light extra roll on the letter R of his name, perhaps the man was Antivan as well? or Rivaini? </p>
<p>But not only did he speak, his face was no longer staring down at the river. His face was, in fact, quite close to his own, making the small clearing feel so much more smaller. </p>
<p>"For an assassin," Samir paused, still getting used to the feeling of saying things again. He measured his words as he watched Zevran stare at him in complete disbelief, "You don't know much about killing, do you?"</p>
<p>Samir smiled gently as he placed his hands on Zevran's cheeks, making the other man flinch at the touch. <em>I will not speak unless absolutely necessary. I am sorry, old love. </em></p>
<p>It felt "absolutely necessary" enough now.</p>
<p>Zevran was, well, speechless. First, Samir speaks, then, he "insults" his whole career? He was far from bothered, however. He found Samir's accent so lovely, he almost forgot they were speaking of dead lovers. He wanted to taste the accent in his mouth, and he would've, were it not for the heavy feeling of confusion twisting inside him. </p>
<p>"I.." He tried to speak, to say something about the many things that were happening so quickly, but Samir raised a hand, always assertive, speaking or not.</p>
<p>"I've decided, and excuse me for deciding this for us both, that I can't and won't sit around as you torture yourself."</p>
<p>Samir was a hypocrite, and of this he knew well. He hid not the fact that he tortured himself just as much. He couldn't possibly believe he could heal, but hell, this was more for Zevran than for himself. Which was, undoubtedly, not the best course of action. But Samir has never been the responsible sort, nor has Zevran.</p>
<p>"Oh, but I should roam around and watch <strong>you</strong> torture <strong>yourself</strong>?" He asked, not sure were to look. He felt wrong looking directly into Samir's eyes, not wanting to pry. It was Samir's privacy, since there were no words to hide his feelings. All he had was his heavy and cumbersome body and the way it moved when he felt angry, upset, guilty. But he had spoken now, words that were absolutely necessary to him, and with a voice that melted chains around his heart. He wasn't sure where to put his hands either, so they were just hanging besides his waist, fingers slightly lifted up in surprise. </p>
<p>He was also scared that making a big deal out of Samir speaking would drive him to feel scared and not speak again. It took him most of his self control, of course. But Samir spent 6 months without speaking, so Zevran could spend five minutes without mentioning the obvious.</p>
<p>"I'm unsure. You are welcome to stay if you'd like. In fact, I would... I would love to have you around. I don't want you to leave, but you are free to do what you wish. I am.." He sighed in frustration, not quite finding all the words he needed. Zevran knew this, but he had no intention to rush him, "I am overjoyed every day I spend with you. I may not express it verbally, but spending my time with you has been the only highlight of my days for a long while now. Of course, call me foolish for loving the attention an assassin gives me," He could barely believe Samir had such an easy time saying he loved things. At least to him, "but I can't handle it anymore. I'd like to help, and perhaps I can do it better if I speak. If you want to help me as well, I will not turn you down again. But I will not ask of you what you are unwilling to give, I will not ask for love or like. I know my place just as well as I know my limits."</p>
<p>That last sentence tugged at Zevran's heart in a way no other scenes or sentences did. <em>Know my place?</em> Did he really think his place was so uncertain, enjoying what he could in whatever way he could, living his life like every day is his last, because he's damned if it isn't?</p>
<p>Yeah. And he sounded just like Zevran. <br/><em>Damn it.</em></p>
<p>"What do you say, Zevran?" </p>
<p>"... Call me Zev, my dear friend."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>I will make this simple for you. I am Zevran, Zev to my friends.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, Zev. Hopefully we'll get past calling each other 'friend', yes?"</p>
<p>"What do you suggest, then, dear Warden?"</p>
<p>"Dear works well. 'Specially when it comes from you." </p>
<p>Zevran leaned forward, but was stopped by Samir's right hand gently touching his shoulders and fixing him in place. </p>
<p>"But I need to remind you that I offer you not only my feelings but my presence as well. I..." He swallowed hard, feeling as if his heart could wilter at any moment, "I offer you commitment. I wish I were in a position to offer you much more than this, but it's all I can-"</p>
<p>"Yes. Yes, what more must I say? Please," Zevran chuckled, not hiding the faint blush in his cheeks and ears, "I haven't had anyone close to me in years. Not physically, but emotionally, Samir. Even when you did not speak, I felt open to you. Commitment is not hard for me. I trust myself to love, but it's hard to trust myself not to spoil what I touch, if you understand what I mean."</p>
<p>Usually, when Zevran said that, it was because he had said something dirty. Naughty Antivan poetry, perhaps. But now he was simply making sure that all his feelings were conveyed properly, whatever those feelings were.</p>
<p>"Which is why I won't ask of you what you do not want to give me."</p>
<p>"I do not want to spoil you, to hurt you."</p>
<p>"Then do not give me pain. Give me what you want to."</p>
<p>"What I want to give you is the best you can have. I'm not sure I can provide you with that.</p>
<p>"Oh, I think you can. I've watched you for too long, Zevran. I know you can make me happy."</p>
<p>"You think?"</p>
<p>"I know so."</p>
<p>"Then... May I?" Zevran said softly, his lips dangerously close to his lover's. </p>
<p>"Mhm,"</p>
<p>"Oh, finally. Your voice is driving me insane. In a very, very good way." </p>
<p>Samir's hands found themselves resting on Zevran's waist, while the other man's hands were around his neck. Not to choke or strangle him, no. To caress the soft area, to love, to make something great out of a simple nervous touch. </p>
<p>And if his life was in Zevran's hands? <br/>That was just fine. He preferred it that way.</p>
<p>It felt as if their lips were meant to be together. The kiss wasn't rushed, no, it was quite the opposite. It was slow and attentive, as if they were making mental notes and mapping each other. Zevran knew that, in time, if things went well (and god, how he hoped they would), he would come to know all of Samir and vice versa. But there was no harm in starting quick.</p>
<p>"A question, if I may," Zevran said between small kisses, Samir's face now close to the other's neck, kissing most of the area as best as he could, struggling not to spend the rest of his night here. Hell, why would he not? </p>
<p>"Mm?"</p>
<p>"Are you, by any chance, Rivaini?"</p>
<p>Samir chuckled, allowing himself to show more joy than he usually would.</p>
<p>"I am, yes. Did the accent give me away?"</p>
<p>"Oh, my Samir. It did not give you away, no. It gave me to you, is what it did."</p>
<p>"How so?"</p>
<p>"'How so'? Please! Have you looked at yourself before? You are already handsome and dashing as it is, and now you tell me you have a sultry and beautiful voice, that you've been hiding this whole time?"</p>
<p>"Well... Thought you deserved to hear me. You've been... Unexpectedly kind to me."</p>
<p>"And I will continue to be so. Now please, kiss me again?"</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>